When my wife’s lung cancer spread and I realized she was going to die, I had a one track mind with a single purpose – make her remaining time as peaceful as possible and prevent her from suffering.
I failed at that.
Her final four months of life were horrible. She was wracked with pain. She was tortured by constant tests, treatments, radiation, scans, biopsies, chemo and doctor’s visits. We were at the hospital for 40 hours a week – frequently with her sitting painfully in a wheelchair while we waited for some appointment, treatment or test.
It was only at the very end that she consented to hospice. By that time she was delirious with pain that could no longer be managed – even with massive doses of morphine being administered by me every 2 hours around the clock.
We had hospice for 2 weeks at home before my wife’s pain once again became unmanageable. The hospice doctor told us she needed IV morphine 24×7 but she had to move into inpatient hospice for this. I could not give her IV morphine at home.
We said no. My wife wanted to die at home. I promised her I would do that for her.
Four hours later, my wife was in such horrible pain she begged me to help her. I did the only thing I could. I drove her to the inpatient hospice facility and checked her in. We got her on IV medications within an hour which helped significantly.
She never came back home. She died in hospice a few days later.
I try not to think about this much. It was horrible and sad. I’ve done my grieving and have moved forward with living.
But today, as I was feeling sorry for myself about a handful of small gripes (pools closed, snow coming, jury duty next week, dating failures, pandemic fatigue), it occurred to me that I had lost perspective.
These things are not a big deal.
At worst, they are nuisances.
I mean, after all, what’s the worst that could happen?
I said to myself, “What are they gonna do – make my wife suffer and then kill her?”
It’s too late, it’s already been done. Everything else pales in comparison.
Even in dying, my wife gave me something. She gave me permission to be happy and she gave me a way to keep life’s difficulties in perspective.